Frozen Anemone
by forevernever030
Summary: She sees, she loves, then she lets go. Just like the seasons. Everything has its spring and its winter. Clary's dad is being chased because of his debts. This leads to Clary having to move all the time. Everywhere she goes, she meets someone new, starts loving them, and says good bye. So she shuts everyone out. But can that be so easy? Clordan friendship and Clace. All human.
1. WARNING: friendly people alert

**Part One-Spring**

 **Chapter 1. WARNING: friendly people alert**

Here we go again, I think, sighing. The school is really close to my house, so that's good. Just a five minute walk, and that's it. The school is bigger than the last one. Or was that the one before? Whatever. New place, new start. The apartment's worse though. There are a lot of gigantic dudes with tattoos all over, and I can smell cigars everywhere.

I get my schedule, looking at it and grunting-as usual-although I hate like every single subjects. I personally think they're all awful. So I don't have favorites. I like art, but not in school. I like to keep my drawing to myself.

A lot of people are staring at me, probably pint pointing my flaws and wondering how to pick on me. As usual, I know. Not that I care. The last thing I want to do is to make friends. I always tried to keep away from my classmates, but somehow, I always ended up with my heart broken in the end when I had to leave that region once again. But this time, I'm going to stay by myself. No friends, I tell myself. No more heartbreaking.

"Hello," someone says, tapping my shoulder.

I jump in surprise, swearing loudly. I find everyone staring at me, and I feel hotness creeping up my cheeks. Great, the first thing I had to say in this school was a swear word.

The one who scared me is a girl with beautiful black hair. She looks stunning, her makeup absolutely perfect.

"I'm sorry if I scared you," she says.

Oh, so she's friendly?

I remain my silence, watching her next move.

"I'm Isabelle. Nice to meet you."

"Clary," I tell her.

Surely, saying my name won't bring us close together. It's not a big deal. I'm being formal, not friendly.

"You're new. You want me to show you around?"

I mumble a no-thank-you and turn around. Don't care if she's hurt or that kind of shit. No friend, no breaking heart.

I look at the school map and find the English classroom. I mean, I never got the people who were asking around to find a classroom. There's something called a _map_. We're in a freaking high school, so don't tell me you cannot read a map.

The only great thing I found out about this school today is that we don't have any seating plans. The classroom is pretty crowded, so it's kinda hard to find a seat. Finally, I sit down beside a slutty looking girl with blonde hair. Alright, maybe there were plenty of seats but I decided to sit by her since I'm absolutely sure I'll never befriend her.

She looks at me, or more like glares at me as I do.

"What do you think you're doing?" She asks with her annoying high pitched voice.

Normally, I would just ignore people like her, but something about her just makes me wanna break her neck. I remain seated, but I also do not answer, hoping it annoys her like hell. So she's rude. Good. At least she won't be trying to talk to me during class.

"I asked you a question."

God, she's getting annoying.

"Hello? Are you deaf?"

"Hello? Are you stupid?" I snap back, unable to hold myself back anymore. "I'm not deaf, I'm just ignoring you, idiot. Can't you even tell the difference?"

A laughter erupts in the classroom, although I can't find anything funny about it.

"You are so dead," she hisses, blushing furiously.

But just then, a boy walks into the classroom, walking toward me and the girl.

"Hello, Kaelie," he says, smirking.

So the bitch's name is Kaelie. And that Kaelie's face suddenly turns sickly sweet, smiling up at the boy.

"Hello, Jace."

And Blondie's name is Jace.

"I see you're making friends with a new girl."

"Oh, yeah. She seems pretty nice to me."

Okay, wasn't she telling me about my death just a few seconds ago prophetically?

A few people roll their eyes at her, which makes me smirk inwardly. Guess not everyone's that stupid. Wait, did I say that? Surely I didn't.

"So, what's your name?" Blondie asks me, and I mumble my name.

"What was that?"

"Claire, I heard," Kaelie says. "She said Claire."

Ugh. Who cares. So I don't correct her.

"Good to see you, Claire."

He sits behind the slut, playing with her hair, making her giggle.

Maybe I shouldn't have chosen this seat. So I start to get up, but Blondie stops me.

"Where you going, Claire?"

"Somewhere that isn't full of teenage hormones," I answer.

I hear him laugh as I go find another seat. There's a brown haired boy who's lying face down on the desk, so I think he's asleep. I go sit beside him, smiling at the fact that he won't notice me. But unfortunately for me, he does.

"Hey," he says, raising his face.

Damn. He's hot. Why? Why? This classroom is seriously full of hazards. At least that nice girl isn't here.

"Hello," I reply, but it comes out like a groan.

"Did your goldfish die this morning? I'm sorry for your loss."

I fight back the urge to let my eyes go skyward, trying my best to ignore him.

"I remember one time when my aunt's friend's brother's girlfriend's goldfish died. Trust me, it was very traumatic."

Does he think that's funny?

"I'm Jordan, by the way."

"Clary."

"Huh, I thought your name was Claire."

"Were you eavesdropping?"

"One of my favorite things to do," he says, smiling widely. "Next to repro-"

"I really don't wanna hear that."

His smile is genuine and contagious unlike Blondie's smirk. Wait, did I say that? Okay, stop. No more friendly crap. I let my face go stone hard again, waiting for the teacher to start.

"English," Mr. Blackwell says. "What do you think that is?"

"Boring," a random boy says.

"Not funny. Miss Morgenstern?" He asks, looking at me.

"Um... A subject you teach?"

And damn Jordan laughs. And his laugh is beautiful. Wait, what?

I roll my eyes, not daring to let my cheeks blush. I've trained my whole life for that, so it isn't that hard. Poker face, I tell myself.

"Not very nice way to start your first day, eh?" The teacher says, sighing. "English, is something that connects your feeling and the world."

The students start awing sarcastically, Jordan blowing Mr. Blackwell a kiss.

"Never have I ever thought I'd hear a teacher say the word _connect_ ," Blondie says.

I want to tell him so bad how stupid joke-if you can call it a joke-it was. I mean, who finds that funny? But even so, all the girls are laughing, oblivious to the fact that everyone can hear how fake it is.

"Mr. Lightwood."

Poor teacher. Although he looks stupid, I feel bad for him. Especially because of that egostic pighead.

"So, Shakespeare, what he wanted-"

"To listen to you talking about all that bullshit or just ditch this class, that is the question."

I sigh, rolling my eyes at Blondie. This is going to be a long day.

* * *

"So you're not the type that talks much?" Jordan asks, following me to the cafeteria.

"I'm not the kind that's nice. So you might want to stay away from me if you like your teeth."

"I love them, trust me, but I think I love your attitude more."

I don't bother to hold my eye-rolling back this time, and Jordan smiles at this.

"Come on. You want to have lunch with me?"

"Let me see, no."

"So you're going to eat all by yourself?"

"That's my plan."

"On the scale of one to ten, how stubborn are you, ten being the worst?"

I don't answer him, and head to an empty table, wishing he'd take a hint.

"We'll see about this tomorrow, Tink."

Wait, did he just nickname me after a tiny idiotic blonde fairy? Ugh, whatever. I just have to never see him again.

I go to an empty table, putting my tray down. I look around the cafeteria, trying to read people's mind. Well, certainly Kaelie wants a camera right now since she's staring at Blondie's ass for centuries. And then, there's Isabelle beside him. I wonder if they're dating. Jordan's sitting beside a pretty girl in front of Jace. I can tell that she's into him.

And that, my friend, has to be when Jordan decides to turn around. He smiles, winks at me, and continues eating his apple. Awesome. Things are going perfectly awesome.

* * *

"Hey, can I at least know where you live?"

I ignore him, continuing the walk to my apartment.

"Your number, then?"

I give him the finger, not even turning back.

"Come on, just your number in case you need me."

"Look, I don't have a phone," I say, turning back to face Jordan.

"Of course you don't."

"I'm serious. So stop following me."

"As much as I'd love to follow you, I'm not. I live in a small apartment called Dumort."

"No freaking way."

"Um... Why? Is that where your goldfish died?"

"Ugh, just forget it!"

"Wait, is that where you live?"

I stiffen up, and he notices this.

"I live in 403, you?"

Damn it, talk about cliches.

"None of your buisness."

"Oh well. I'll figure that out soon."

So the rest of our-correction, _my_ -walk is full of him trying to get me to talk, and me ignoring him. Just because he lives in the same apartment doesn't mean that we'll become besties like in movies, right? Like hello, my name is Jordan. Hello, my name is Clary, and we're gonna be bestfriend forever!

"Seriously? This is just so cliche. You live in 402? You know, this is when an unbreakable bond between two people forms in movies."

Did I jinx that? Tell me I didn't.

"Trust me, I can break it in half and throw it in the meat grinder"

"Ouch. Can I come over?"

I give him an incredulous look before unlocking the door and shutting the door in his face.

 **Although Jace is a guy, why do I like the sound of Clary calling him Blondie? He's gonna be so shocked when he hears it though...**

 **So this story is based on my own life, although my dad is not being chased-so please don't call the cops or something. I just had to move around a lot. Like, A LOT. Jordan is portraying my latest bestfriend, and Jace is... No one. Because I love Clace, but me and my bestfriend... Just no. I bet he'll know that Jordan is him when he reads this-although I don't want him to, because that would be so embarrassing.**

 **So anyways, hope you enjoyed this chapter!**


	2. Read my FINGER

**Chapter 2. Read my FINGER**

"So how was school?" Dad asks.

"The usual," I reply nonchalantly.

"And what is the usual?"

"Full of egostic pigs, sluts, and nice kids."

"Well, the last part is good."

I look at my dad like he's from Mars or something.

"I just don't understand you. People can't live by themselves."

Tell me about it. Why do you think I always have bunch of friends left behind me.

"I don't want to talk about this."

He knows this is a touchy stuff so he moves on to other subject.

"What about the teachers?"

"I don't know. I was asleep most of the times."

"Clary."

"What? I'm always transferring so don't talk about good colleges. I'll never go to one anyways. At least not for more than half a year."

"I'm not talking about colleges. It's just that you need to know the basic things-"

"Basic things? Where the hell do you use cubic equation in the real life? Or when we're running away for millionth time. Or do you want me to build a rocket ship so we can fly to the Never Never Land and never be found?"

I then, go to my room and shrug my backpack and jacket off. I feel sorry for my dad, but I'm not really in the mood for apologizing. I get my homework out and fling myself on my mattress with them. We're not that poor, and we can afford a bed, but dad and I know the importance of money. Especially now, and we will not waste it on a time we spend while we're unconscious.

Homework sucks. Seriously, I do not understand even the questions. Did I mention that I have to finish reading To Kill a Mockingbird by next week? Now how the hell am I going to get that thing? And why in the earth do we have to know about the ways to kill mockingbirds in English? Well, I'm not asking my dad to buy me a stupid book. I'm thinking about getting a phone, though, for my birthday. I mean, I'm sixteen and I don't have a phone!

I just write random things on the homework page, wishing that somehow, _Darth Vader is Luke's father_ would answer one of the questions. Oh well. Who cares?

After hours of scribbling random things down, I go out to apologize.

"Hey, dad? I'm sorry for what I said."

"It's okay. I'm sorry that I can't provide you a decent environment. Things sometimes just don't go the way you want them to, you know."

"I know."

"You hungry?"

"Sure."

"I made you your favorite."

"I know. I could smell it from my room."

"Come on, let's finish this!"

Dad and I attack the pasta savagely, leaving two empty plates in the end.

Dad works in a construction thing, so he's only home for a while. But today's my mom's birthday, and let me just say that his boss is like the most generous person in the world. No kidding. This construction buisness is actually full of criminals and people being chased. When you're in it, it's like everyone recognizes that you too, made some serious mistakes.

I never understood why we were celebrating mom's birthday, but if that means my dad cooks for me and spend time with me, that's cool with me.

"Help me do the dishes?"

"Sure thing," I answer, carrying the plates to the sink.

My former friends always thought we were extremely poor, but we're not to be honest. I mean sure, we have lesser money than usual. A lot lesser. But still, we have this money for emergency. I mean, yeah, my dad owes billions of dollar to people, but hey, what's wrong with being optimistic? We never got caught, and that's what matters. And we can use the emergency money if an accident happens. So, it's pretty much a shot of life.

* * *

"Clarissa Morgenstern," Mr. Blackwell says angrily.

"Yes, sir?"

"I did not want to know that Darth Vader is Luke's father."

I hear snicker from all over the classroom, and as always, I ignore them.

"Trust me, sir. I don't think anyone did. But I'm afraid that it was inevitable. We cannot change the storyline anymore since it's all over the world already. Should we learn how to build a time machine so we can go back in time and fix it to your benefit?" Jordan says.

I sat as far as possible away from him, which gave us quite a few meters of space between us.

"Mr. Kyle, we do not take things lightly in this classroom."

"Excuse me for interrupting, but who's _we_?"

"Mr. Kyle-"

"Guys," Blondie suddenly says. "Raise your hand if you think we should take things lightly in this classroom."

Everyone except for the teacher's hand go up.

"Guess no more seriousness," Jordan says, shrugging.

"That's enough! Detention for all three of you!"

"Wait, wait. Hold up. _Three_? You mean Blondie, Jordan, and _me_?" I exclaim.

"Hold up, who's Blondie?" Blondie asks, frowning.

The classroom bursts into a fit of laughter.

"Silence!"

"Oh my god. You watched Harry Potter, didn't you? The Dumbledore approach doesn't really suit you."

"Luch hour. Detention. 206. End of discussion."

"I still didn't get an explanation for my detention!" I complain.

"You did not fulfill your assignment," he says, exasperated.

"Well it's not my fault that your class is so boring!"

Damn it, that really might earn me a detention.

Jordan laughs out loud, and I give him the finger, which earns me another shout from the teacher.

* * *

"Well, that was fun," Blondie says, sitting down beside me.

"Do you mind?"

"Mind what?"

"Go sit somewhere else."

"But you won't get to admire my beautiful body from far away."

"Exactly my point."

"Oh, so you don't want to pass out because of my god like-"

"Whatever you say, Blondie."

Not being to stand him anymore, I go and sit in other table.

"Yeah, about that, why the hell am I Blondie?" He asks across the room, frowning.

"Look at your hair."

"I radiate testosterone everywhere."

I ignore him, just concentrating on the edge of my pencil.

"I am so sorry!" A woman trills, coming into the room with a burger in her hand.

Her makeup is ridiculous, and her outfit... I don't want to talk about it.

"I am Mrs. Trinket. Today we have... Only two students? That is awesome, dears! Now, today we're going to do something super fun! You guys are going to write everything wrong you did today, and I'm just going to have my burger! How does that sound, darlings?"

I stare at her, knowing there's only two reasonable explanations for this. One, her brain has a knife stuck in it. Two, _my_ brain has a knife stuck in it, and I'm hallucinating.

"That sounds... Awesomely horrible," Jace says.

"Oh, how witty of you. Now start writing, lovelies."

I mentally groan, tapping my pencil against the table.

Blondie sees this and writes something on a piece of paper and tosses it to me.

 _Need help?_

I look at him skeptically _._ He reaches for my paper and I give it to him since I haven't really written anything on it.

When he gets the paper to his table, he passionately writes something on it. Moments later, he gives the paper back to me.

 _I have elaborated the coolest piece of literature, about Darth Vader being the father of Luke. Sadly, Mr. Blackwell couldn't handle the news. Yes, it is very tragic. I apologize for the dude fucking a woman and having a son named Luke_.

He definitely didn't watch the movie, I guess. I look at him, rolling my eyes, but I cannot hide the smirk that's creeping up my lips.

He mouthes _I know you love it,_ smirking his signature smirk.

"Hey, where's Jordan, by the way?" Jace asks out loud.

"Mr. Burnwood, I would like it if you would keep your thoughts to yourself."

"A, it's _Lightwood_. B, I think Claire's done."

Just as then, Jordan opens the door and comes in, his brown hair sticking to his forehead because of sweat.

"Sorry... Forgot," he says, panting.

"Come in, and you are... Mr. Kyle?"

"Yes, Effu."

"Effu?" I ask.

"I'll tell you later," Jace says, laughing.

"I don't need you to."

"Well, Mr. Kyle, since you're here, welcome to our personal hell. We get this splendid opportunity to write," Jace says, mimicking Mrs. Trinket's funny accent.

Jordan laughs, and comes to sit beside me.

I glare at him, but he shrugs it off, taking his notebook and pencil out.

"So Tink. You curious about Effu's story?" He asks, smiling.

I shake my head, debating whether to throw my paper away or give it to Mrs. Trinket or Effu.

"Well, her name is actually Effie, but seriously, I think we all agree that Effu is so much more sophisticated name."

"Sure, sure."

"No, seriously. So what do you think is the purpose of this?"

"I really don't see the purpose of us talking."

Oh my god, Clary. Just ignore him. Don't talk back to him.

"I meant detention, not talking, Tink."

"Really, this is the third time you called me that. Stop calling me that."

"Why?"

"I'm not that small."

"Then the name stays, Tink," he says, grinning.

* * *

"Hi, Clary! It's so good to see you again!" Isabelle shouts as I come out with Blondie and Jordan.

"Same to you," I mumble, my voice barely audible.

"Jace! Where the hell were you doing during lunch?" She asks again, this time, turning to face Jace.

"Detention."

"Jace, it's Effu who's supervising. You didn't need to go. I got a detention too, but she never noticed, did she? No one went. All she cares about is her stupid cheeseburger."

"Oh, but I had a certain red hair to entertain. And her name is Claire, not Clary."

"No, it's Clary."

Oh, gosh. This is not happening right now.

 **So...? Like it? Hate it? Don't give a crap? And I really really had to put our adorable Effie.** **Well, I hope you enjoyed!**


	3. DEAD CHICKENS make me feel better

**DEAD CHICKENS make me feel better**

"What? Your real name is Clary? Why didn't I know this?"

I shrug, turning away from Jace.

"Yeah, why didn't you know? All the teachers say my name constantly, you know."

"They call you Clarissa," he points out.

"Whatever."

"So...?"

"So what?"

"What's your story?"

"My story?"

"Yeah, like where did you transfer from, do you have any hot sisters, what's your favorite subject, your hobbies-"

"Once upon a time, there lived a girl name Clary," I start, trying my best to keep the annoyance out of my voice.

Jace nods, listening carefully.

"She met a knight called Jace, and she kicked him where the sun doesn't shine. And they lived happily ever after because the stupid knight decided to stay away from her."

Jace bursts into laughter, leaving me confused.

"I don't see why that's so funny."

"You don't see much, do you?"

I ignore him, walking to my next class.

"What do you have next?" He asks, following me, and I don't answer.

I've had enough of conversation for today. Although this boy annoys the hell out of me, I still can't take any risk, especially if he's this hot. Wait, did I say that? I did not.

Suddenly, he snatches my schedule from me.

"Hey!"

"Biology... Good luck with Izzy and Maia!"

Izzy? Oh god, no... That's the nice girl. And Maia, I don't know her, but I still want to keep away from her if _he_ knows her.

I grunt, walking into the classroom.

"Hey, Clary! Come sit over here!"

Is it rude if I ignore the offer? Because I do. Pretending I didn't notice her, I sit down on the furthest seat away from her.

"Clary!"

This, I can't ignore. Reluctantly, I turn my head toward her.

"Come sit with me!"

Sighing, I walk over to her.

"So I take it you're not the talkative one?"

"I wouldn't bet on it," I mumble, and she laughs.

Seriously, what's with this school and laughing?

"This is Maia," she says, pointing at the girl behind her.

Wait, that's the pretty girl who was totally into Jordan!

"Hey, Clary!" She says cheerfully.

I twitch the edge of my lips up a bit, hoping they'd notice my reluctance and think I'm a rude kid and stop talking to me. Unfortunately for me though, they don't.

"So what school did you transfer from?"

"St. Xavier's," I mumble.

"Oh, I know that school! My cousin goes there. Did you know Patch Cipriano?" Maia exclaims.

I swollow visually, thinking about the boy. Damn it. Why did she have to mention his name? Just thinking about him hurts so much.

"Um, yeah..."

"Wow, that's so cool. He's hot, isn't he?"

I decide to ignore this question, trying to do my unfinished homework.

"Need a little help with that?" Isabelle asks.

Don't let it go, Clary. Be strong. You can do this. Yes, you can. No more breaking hearts.

I slowly shake my head.

The teacher start explaining boring facts with sentences full of words that I've never heard before.

Isabelle and Maia keeps offering help and talking, and I just can't stand it anymore.

"Mr. Banner?" I ask carefully.

"Yes, Miss Morgenstern?"

"I'm not feeling well. May I be excused?"

* * *

I hear a knock on the door, so I go to open it.

"Who the hell is-"

"Hello to you too," Jordan says, walking in.

He's holding a small plastic bowl, smiling as usual.

"And who invited you?"

"Myself. I heard you weren't feeling well. I brought you some soup."

Seriously? What is wrong with this school?

"I'm fine. Feeling much better now."

"I know the disease well, don't worry. Often happens during biology, but you get better when you get home."

"Please get out?"

"Do my ears deceive me, or did you just say please?"

"Oh, let me change it for you. Get the fuck out of my place before I taser your ass."

"That's not nice. Come on, try this soup. You're gonna fall in love with it instantly."

"I'm sorry, but I do not cheat on my darling pasta."

Wait, I'm supposed to _ignore_ him, not make a civil conversation with him!

"Just get out of my depressing place."

"Take the soup."

I snatch the bowl from him impatiently, shooing him away.

"Hey! You know where to find me to return the bowl."

I roll my eyes, closing the door.

I look at the steamy chicken soup, studying it. I take a sniff, and realize that it smells fantastic. But I still cannot eat it. No more friendly crap. I dump the content in the garbage, the back of my eyes stinging a little. Oh god. No, it is not because of him... Nope. Definitely not because of Patch.

 _"Hey, you okay?" He asks, walking into my bedroom._

 _"Depends," I answer, smiling from my mattress._

 _"On what?"_

 _"Whether I'm okay or not."_

 _"Ha freaking ha."_

 _"Thank you," I bow sarcastically._

 _"I brought you some chicken soup if that makes you feel better?"_

 _"Sure, a dead chicken floating on water would make me feel better."_

 _He narrows his eyes, and I laugh, grabbing the bowl from his hand._

 _"Oh, don't worry. I have unrequited love for dead chickens, Cipriano."_

 _"I'm sure they'll love being inside you," he says, winking._

 _"Ew."_

 _I savor the taste of the soup, moaning delightfully._

 _"See? You're already making sex noises."_

 _I roll my eyes and fling the spoon at his face._

 _"Hey!" He exclaims as the spoon leaves a trail of liquid along his jawline._

 _I laugh, intentionally out loud. Eventually, he dips his index finger into the soup and smudge it all around my face._

 _"You are so dead!" I yell, lunging myself at him._

 _We both land on the hard floor, him groaning underneath me._

 _"Ouch. And here I was, thinking you were sick."_

 _"A lot can happen during biology," I shrug, getting off him._

 _"I think you broke my hipbone," he mumbles, still lying on the floor._

 _"Good," I say, grinning. "That's what you get for dipping your finger inside my beloved food."_

 _He raises one eyebrow, noticing how wrong that sounded. I laugh hard, while he tries to suffocate his since, you know, it hurts to if you have a possibly broken hipbone._

I clench the empty bowl against me, hugging it so tight, I fear it might even break. I slowly get down on my knees, inhaling the sweet scent of the soup. Oh my gosh, what am I doing? Nope, don't cry. You're stronger than this. No tears. After swallowing the burning sensation in my throat, I manage to contain my tears back, standing up and wiping the memory away.

* * *

I walk outside to the hallway, and I see him standing in front of the door.

"Were you waiting here?" I ask, incredulously.

"Yup. Knew it won't take very long for you to finish."

Come on, Clary. Tell him that you dumped the soup. Tell him!

"The soup wasn't too bad," I say after a moment of hesitation.

What? WHAT? Why did I say that?

I hand him the bowl, and turn to go back inside, only to have Jordan's hand on my shoulder. I instantly freeze at the touch, then shrug it off.

"Are you okay?" He asks.

"Sure."

"You look upset."

"I'm not. Mind your own damn buisness."

"No need to be so rude."

"Look who's talking," I retort, clenching my teeth.

This conversation is lasting longer than I planned.

"It's me, Jordan."

"Didn't notice."

"I don't believe that for a second! Who in the earth is nicer, funnier, and hotter than me?"

"You want the long list or the short list?"

"And here we go! We finally had a civil conversation for more than thirty seconds!"

I turn around for real this time, slamming the door before he can come in.

I know I can do this. This time, I'm going to succeed. At least, I lasted a few days already.

My dad always told me that to love is to destroy. I one hundred percent agree with that. I've had a lot of loves and a lot of scars to prove it. This time, I will not let love get to me. I will not let myself get destroyed.

I let my hands flatten the wrinkled paper carefully. I read the numbers on it for millionth times. Only if I had a phone. Wait a minute...

* * *

"You want to borrow my phone?"

I nod at Jordan who looks both amused and confused.

"Okay, come in."

"Can't you just bring it here?"

"No can do, Tink."

Sighing, I enter through the door, my hand clenching around the paper.

"Here you go," he hands me his phone.

I slowly type in the numbers with my shaking fingers. Will I really get to talk to him? When I finally finish punching the numbers, I give Jordan the _let my have my personal conversation_ look. Nodding, he walks into a room.

I press the small device against my ear, waiting for Patch to answer.

"Hello?" A boy finally answers on the other side of the line.

"Pa... Patch?" I speak, trying to calm my racing heart.

"Clary? So you finally got a phone of your own?" He asks, sounding excited.

"No... Um, it's someone else's that I borrowed."

"Did your dad let-"

"I didn't tell him," I sigh.

"Clary," his voice suddenly turns rigid. "We're going to hang up."

"But Patch-"

"No, this is dangerous for both you and your dad. Good bye, Clary."

"Patch, I love you!"

But he already hung up. Shocked, I lower the phone, trying to hold my tears back. Not here. You're in Jordan's place. Stop it, Clary.

And there again, went another broken love.

 **This isn't exactly what actually happened to me, but I just remeber going insane after I met _Patch_ again after a few years because he's changed so much. Still miss old _Patch_ and _Jordan_... :( But I won't go all whining on you guys, so don't worry. **


	4. Gravity, motion, and EUOPHILOCITY

**Gravity, motion, and EUOPHILOCITY**

"Are you done with the call?" Jordan asks, coming outside.

I glare at him, suddenly feeling so angry at him with no reasons. I put the phone down on his kitchen counter and turn away, starting to walk away from him.

"Hey, are you okay?" He asks following me.

"Just stop following me!" I yell. "Don't you even get a hint? Just back the fuck off!"

"Fine," he says carefully, holding his hands up like a sign of defeat.

I go back to my own place, bracing myself not to cry. I won't cry like an idiot. So I don't. I'm strong, aren't I? This is strength, isn't it?

* * *

"Hey, Tink."

Sighing, I look into his hazel eyes. Sometimes, I just wonder if this boy has no pride at all.

"What?"

"Just saying hello. I think we are meant to be. I mean, we get out of our house at the same time."

Ignoring him, I walk down the dusty stairs with him following me.

"Did you do the biology homework?" He asks, his each footsteps echoing.

"What do you think?"

"You know, I can help you study."

"No, you can't."

"I can, actually. I got a B- for biology."

"Wow, I'm impressed."

"Wow, I'm impressed. Because you just said four sentences to me without yelling or swearing at me!"

I flinch at his smile. Was I really that harsh? Not that it matters. If he thinks I'm mean, he'll go away soon enough.

I walk faster, wishing he wouldn't catch up with me. But he does.

"But, I do know this girl who always gets an A for everything."

"I don't care about my grades, okay?" I say, annoyance obvious in my voice.

"Huh. I bet you don't even know how a plane flies."

"Who the hell cares? It just does!"

"Three more sentences!"

I grunt, picking up my speed. Why does he have to be so annoying? I can see the school now.

Suddenly, a strong pair of arms wrap around me tightly from behind me.

"What the hell?" I scream.

"You were going too fast. You might trip."

"Get your fucking arms off me, Kyle."

"Ooh, so the girl has a bad mouth, huh?"

Blondie.

"And what are you doing here, Blondie?" I hiss, unwrapping Jordan's arms.

"I wish I knew. I never saw the purpose of school, you know."

"Probably fucking girls in the janitor's closet for you," I mutter under my breath.

"I'm brokenhearted. Do I look like a man whore to you?"

"Actually, yes," Jordan interrupts.

"Just because I'm absolutely gorgeous and charming doesn't mean I sleep with everyone."

"Right, not _everyone_. Only girls."

Wait, why am I talking to these two?

"I can't believe you think of me like that," Jace says with a mock hurt.

"But you've gotta admit. You never had a serious relationship," Jordan points out.

"That doesn't mean I sleep around."

"Fine. Whatever you say. I really don't care how many girls you slept with," I say.

"No! Come on, Tink. Say something sarcastic," Jordan urges.

Glaring at him, I remain silent. Shrugging, he goes to a silent mode too to my relief.

"Oh, come on. You're not scared of this little girl, are you?" Jace laughs at Jordan. "I mean, look at her."

"Excuse me?" I snap, stopping in my place.

"I'm just saying."

God, just ignore him, Clary. He's just an idiot. He doesn't deserve any of your attention.

"You're an egostic pig and an asshole and fuck you," I say cooly. "Just saying."

"Miss Morgenstern," I hear a stern voice from behind. "Could you repeat what you just said to Mr. Lightwood here?"

I swear internally.

"Mr. Starkweather, I am-"

"Mrs. Trinket, I'm afraid you're going to have to supervise Clarissa again this afternoon," he says, turning to Effu. "Detention, in the library during lunch."

"But I was only swearing-"

"Wait!" Effu screams. "I smell something. It's... It's... Ooh! A cheeseburger!"

Mr. Starkweather sighs, walking away from us.

"You don't have to go, you know," Jordan says. "It's Effu."

"He's right. Hang out with us," Jace chirps in.

I turn to face them.

"Are you guys," I say, pointing my index finger at them. "Fu-"

"Launguage, Ms. Morgenstern," Jace says, mocking the principle.

"-cking crazy? Go hang out with Kaelie or something!"

Then I do the thing I should have done minutes ago. I storm off.

* * *

I tap my pencil against the desk, ignoring whatever the teacher is talking about. I don't think I'm cut out for biology. Wait, am I in history? I look at the textbook. Oh. Physics.

I stare at what the teacher has drawn on the board. What is that? Kinda looks like a... A hairbrush if you ask me.

Not bothering anymore to figure out what we're learning about, I start studying the people. Jace is staring at his crotch, smiling. What the hell? Oh, he must be texting. I study his face. I bet there is something else in there too.

The way he talks, it's obvious that his defense mechanism is strong. And talk about his pride. So... Child abuse, maybe? Or maybe a loss of a loved one. Yes, that makes more sense. He hides behind that pretty little face, not daring to confront his own scars. Coward.

 _Hypocrite_ , a voice whispers in the back of my head. At least I'm not the one pretending.

Jordan is weird. I don't know in what way, but he is. It's as if he's not a human. Like he's unbreakable. Like he's incapable of getting hurt. Huh. What am I talking about? Everyone has their own scars. Maybe he's just better at masking it...?

"Miss Morgenstern! Are you paying any attention?"

"I am sorry, sir."

"How many times do I have to tell you? You're going to fail your tests miserably if you don't start listening to me!"

Gritting my teeth, I apologize again and again.

"As I was saying, we're going to have a pop quiz next week. I'm not going to tell you what day. Just prepare for it, got it? If you don't manage to get a good enough score, I'll have you stay late everyday until you get your score higher."

Oh no.

* * *

"Okay, we can really, really help you with this," Jordan says. "Seriously, both of us are pretty decent at physics."

"I don't need help."

"Yes, you do," Jace interrupts. "How about this? You let us help you, and we'll leave you alone for a week after that."

"For a _week_?"

"Yes, or no?"

"Fine, but if I don't get a decent score, you are never, ever talking to me again."

Jace and Jordan exchange glances.

"What, scared?"

"Of course not. Like I said, we're pretty good."

"And one more thing. I can cut off the deal whenever I want to."

Just in case I start getting attached to them.

* * *

"Okay, so where should we get started with?"

"Probably from the basics," I tell Jordan.

We're sitting out on a park, the textbook on the grass.

"How far behind are you?"

"Well... I know what an atom is."

Both of the boys' jaw drops open.

"Tink, I'm pretty sure you learn that in sixth grade or something."

"If you say one more negative thing about this, I'm going to cancel the-"

"Fine, fine! Jeez, what's with the redheads these days?" Jace complains.

"Excuse me? My hair is not red."

"Um, Tink? It actually is."

"I prefer bright brown. And I think it's because of the lighting, and-"

I look up, and realize we're underneath a gigantic oak tree. Fighting the urge to give the tree the finger, I sigh, and open the textbook.

"So... Shall we teach you the seventh grade stuff first?"

"No, can't you just make me memorize the words or something?"

"Okay. Do you know what euophilocity means?"

"Um... Isn't that the particle of a-"

"No, Tink."

"How would you know?" I accuse Jordan.

"Because our dear _Blondie_ here, made that word up."

"Hey, don't call me that!"

"Tink calls you that everytime."

"Well, Clary is Clary. She can call me that anytime."

Rolling his eyes, Jordan stretches his arms, the tip of his fingers brushing against my neck. I cringe away from him, making Jordan squint at me.

"Are you ticklish?" He asks.

I shake my head viciously, but he doesn't seem to buy it. He and Jace exchange glances, then leap toward me.

"What the-"

Then, I burst out laughing as their fingers jab into my sides.

"Oh my god. Stop, you idiots!"

I thrash around, probably gathering everyone's attention to me. But they don't stop tickling me, and then...

"Oops," I say as my foot connects with Jace's head.

He collapses on the ground, his eyes closed.

"Jace?" I ask frantically. "Are you okay?"

"Oh god. Maybe he's having a concussion," says Jordan.

I kneel down beside him, bringing his head onto my lap.

"Jordan!" I scream. "What do we do?"

"Um.. I don't know...?"

"How can you be so calm? He might be having a concussion!"

He just shrugs.

"Jace? Jace? Wake up! Wake up, you idiot!"

He doesn't move an inch.

"Excuse me?" A girl approaches us. "Does your friend need some help? Because I can call- holy shit!"

Finally noticing Jace properly, she just stands there, gaping at him. Just like any other girls. I roll my eyes, groping for my phone.

"Let me call-"

"No!" Jace suddenly yells, sitting up. "Don't call anyone, I'm fine."

Actually, he does look fine. No, he's... Smirking.

"You... You..."

"You put my head on your lap," he says, grinning.

"And you knew about this!" I glare at Jordan.

"What can I say? That's why we need education, Tink."

"I didn't hurt you at all?" I ask, a part of me disappointed, and another relieved.

"Trust me, I could barely feel you."

Clenching my teeth, I wonder if that was an insult.

"However," he says, dragging me toward him by my ankle. "I believe you do owe me."

"I do not owe you," I glare at him, trying to pull my body away from him, but damn it, he's strong.

"Don't worry. I can think of plenty of nice ways for you to pay back for me."

I arch my eyebrows, making him laugh.

"So...? How are you going to pay me back?" He asks, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

"I can give you another good kick if you really want me to," I answer, still struggling against him.

"But a kick is not what I really want for now," he whispers against my neck.

"Okay, guys. I'm still here. You know, Jordan Kyle? Your friend?"

Jace releases me, but his smirk stays on.

"You are not my friend," I state matter of factly.

Maybe I really made a big mistake when I agreed to their deal. Tomorrow, I tell myself. I'll cut it off.

* * *

"Simon. What am I going to do?" I ask him, sighing. "Everything's so hard in my life. Do you think they're going to stay away from me if they realize how bitchy I am?"

But as always, his brown, lifeless eyes remain the same, not answering my question.


	5. It's SHREK that smells

**It's SHREK that smells**

"Clary. Looking hot as always," says Jace, nudging me with his elbow. "Are we meeting after school again?"

"Sure, sure," I say, ignoring his previous comment.

"Did you study what I gave you yesterday?"

"You gave me something?" I ask, genuinely confused.

"I gave you my notebook," he says, sighing.

"Well, I'm sorry. Satisfied?"

"Yes, actually. So listen, do you have plans this Friday night?"

"No."

"Then can we-"

"No, meaning no, I will not go out on a date with you."

"Come on. I know this awesome-"

"No."

"But-"

"No."

"How about-"

"No."

"You don't like me."

"Yes."

As if I would get fooled by that.

"Oh, damn it. It usually works in the movies."

"I'm gonna go to biology."

"Can't wait 'till the school's over."

"We have English together before lunch."

"Knew it! You're looking forward to seeing me-"

"You're crazy."

"For you."

"Get lost."

"Where? Inside you?"

"Stop with the pickup lines."

"But-"

"Get lost, Jace Lightwood, or I'll kick your ass into your classroom."

"Jeez, calm down."

"Go away, and have a nice day. Thank you."

* * *

I'm washing my hands in the sink just when one of the stall doors open, revealing an angry looking Kaelie in it.

"You bitch," she snarls, pushing me against the sink, and my hip aches from the contact.

"What the hell?"

"Stay away from Jace."

"I am trying my best, thank you very much."

She suddenly slaps my face, and I gasp, pressing my palm against my burning cheek.

"Don't talk to me like that!"

"I will talk whatever way I want to," I say, lowering my hand.

"Then trust me, it's not going to be pretty."

"I don't care. You're the one who likes pretty stuffs anyways."

I try to push her away, but she's too strong and too tall.

"Don't. I have my friends with me. Inside the stalls."

"Coward. You brought your friends, huh?"

"They have phones too," she smirks. "They're going to take pictures of you while I beat the crap out of you."

"Like that's ever going to happen."

"Oh, Clary. That's very likely to happen. Too bad. Jace doesn't like ugly faces."

"I don't care about Jace! So don't worry about me. Just tighten the leash on your boyfriend."

"You... You whore."

"Me? A whore? Oh please, am I the one who practically lets everyone see my thong? I can literally see your black thong saying hi from here, you know."

To my surprise-not-she smirks.

"No wonder Jace was staring at me for so long."

"I doubt that's why," I say without thinking. "But like I said, I don't care about Jace."

"Yes, you do. And you're going to hurt him if you don't stay away from him. Heartless bitches like you won't understand what he was going through."

"I do know he had a hard time."

"Oh really? Then what is it?"

"Doesn't matter. Everyone has their own hard time."

"It does matter if you care about him. I, for one-"

"I fucking don't care about him! So will you cut it out?"

"Not just yet. I want everyone to see how worthless you are. Jennifer! Jen! Come out!"

I wait for a stall door to open, but all I hear is a groan.

"Jennifer! Come out!"

Fuming, Kaelie stomps over to a door, and open it. And there she is, the Jennifer girl. Passed out on the cold tiles. And Isabelle standing by her side.

"Hello," Isabelle says, flipping her long, black hair.

"What... What..."

"Well, now we know how you got a C for English."

"You... You little-"

"Excuse me, but I'm like two inches taller than you."

Kaelie screams in frustration, stomping over to another stall. She screams again, and I guess Isabelle took care of all her friends.

"I'm calling the cops!" She yells.

"Yes, but then, you'd have to explain how all this happened."

Clenching her teeth, Kaelie runs out of the washroom, leaving just Isabelle and me-if you count out the unconscious girls-in it.

"Um..." I scratch the back of my neck, unsure of what to say.

"You're welcome. It was fun, actually."

"Yeah, thanks, but... You didn't have to do this," I say, waving at the unconscious girls.

"They deserved it."

Biting my lower lip, I flinch a little.

* * *

I stare at Kaelie skimping over to Jace at lunch, draping her arms around his neck loosely from the behind. Jace acknowledges her and motions for her to sit beside him. Kaelie smiles happily. She tries her best to lift her skirt naturally, trying to grab his attention.

Just then, Jace's head snaps toward me, smirking. He winks while Kaelie is dying for his attention. She gives me the finger without him seeing it. Wow.

I see the girl, Jennifer at the other table, rubbing her neck unconsciously. I almost feel bad for her. Isabelle isn't someone you'd like to mess with, I guess. I mean, I thought she was the kind of girl who wouldn't let anyone get hurt.

* * *

"Clary. I have something for you," my dad says carefully when I get home.

"What is it?"

Is it a phone? Is it a phone? Oh my god, please let it be a damn phone of my own.

"It's.. In your room, actually. Don't be too surprised, though."

But even before I can go inside my room, someone pops out of it.

"Really, Valentine? _Something_? I'm a normal creature that breathes just like you," he snorts.

He has short brown hair, and has a silver hoop through his right earlobe. He looks about a little more than twenty.

"Um... Dad? What is he doing here?"

"He's your gift! Isn't that awesome?" He says with weak enthusiasm.

"That is so awesome, I feel like I've just gotten a new underwear for Christmas."

"A, I'm not your underwear. B, this is not Christmas," the guy says.

"Oh my god, I didn't notice. What am I going to do without you?"

"Okay, stop fighting," dad says, closing his eyes.

"We weren't fighting. Fighting is like when I'm on top of him, beating the crap out of him," I state matter of factly.

"Huh, as if you can. What are you, a tree nymph?"

"And what are you, Hulk or something?"

"Why would you call me Hulk?"

"Because you smell."

"I do not smell. And Hulk doesn't smell either. It's Shrek that smells."

"How would you know that?"

"How would _you_ know?"

"Stop it!" Dad says, exasperated. "Stop fighting over green monsters. You," he points at the guy. "Are supposed to help her with her homework and making friends, not fight with her."

"Like I said, we're not fighting," I say. "Wait, what were you saying about making friends?"

"Clary," he says in a warning voice.

"I'm not a five years old, okay?"

"I know you're not."

"Then why do you have this guy over here?"

"Because you're shutting everyone out! Do I want my daughter to be forever alone?"

"I'm not alone, okay? I have friends!"

"Who?"

I clench my teeth. I can't believe my own dad is doing this to me.

"Excuse me for interrupting, but do you happen to have an ice cream in your fridge? I'm craving for some," the guy pipes in.

"Scott," dad hisses.

So his name is Scott.

"Yes?" He asks innocently.

Dad sighs, crossing his arms over his chest. A few minutes pass by.

"You know, if we're going to keep doing this-standing here, doing nothing-I'll be at my room if you need help with it."

And I stomp into my room.

A few minutes later, a piece of paper slips into my room through the small opening between the door and the floor.

I unfold it, and begin to read it.

 _Dear, Clary._

 _I'm sorry for arguing with you today. I was supposed to be nice, but no, I hurt your feeling. I apologize for that. I hope you forgive me._

 _I hope we can begin again is bullshit. Complete bullshit. Your dad was supervising my letter, so yeah. My apology is fake! You're so dumb if you got fooled by that._

 _Oh, Clary. You're so sweet and lovable. I'm sorry if I truly hurt you._

 _Seriously? Does your dad supervises your letter too while you're writing? Because this is crazy. I mean, apology letter? Come on! What kind of peo_

 _So forgive me?_

 _Sincerely yours, Scott._

 _._

 _._

 _._

 _Not._

Huh. So my dad is forcing him to write an apology letter to me? I mean seriously, what does he have against Scott?

Ah, a shelter, I guess. A nice bed to sleep and warm food to eat, perhaps.

I look into Simon's soft, brown eyes.

"Simon," I sigh. "How the hell am I going to kick this guy out of our house?"

"I love you," he says.

"I love you too," I reply softly.

 **Who do you think Simon is? And yes, I'm so sorry that I'm updating so late. Forgive me? *lost puppy eyes* Anyways, hope you enjoyed this chapter! Also, I do not own Scott Parnell, but he is definitely OOC. Sorry if you like the actual Scott better...**


	6. AN

**Okay, I'm so sorry if you thought this was an update.**

 **I'm putting this fanfiction on hiatus because I got this other fanfic idea that keeps bugging me, and it's keep chasing this fanfic's ideas away. So I'm going to write that one first because I thought it would be better to give this story a break rather than mess it up.**

 **So yeah, I won't be updating this fanfic for a while. I may or may not post the story I decided to write, but if I do, please take a few seconds to check it out.**

 **I'll still be updating Hugs &Kisses, though, and I'm sorry.**


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